Dark Rangers
by BestFriendForLife
Summary: Clea, a Dark Ranger under the rule of Lady Sylvanas attempts to stop Arthas' armies from destroying the Horde, but a simple mistake changes everything. Takes place during the WotLK era.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey guys, this is my first story I've publish on Fanfiction. I've been working on since WoTLK(which...wow...was over two..three years ago?) Anyway, I favour this era of Warcraft so I thought I'd publish my story still. I hope you enjoy. :3**

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"My Power strengthens as your numbers dwindle. How long will you make your army suffer, Lady Sylvanas? "Arthas said from across the battlefield, voice amplified through his minions.

Lady Sylvanas grit her teeth as she slew five minions of the Scourge. Grime and blood coated her long, black hair, and pale complexion. Beside her, her elfin friends stuck their swords and staves into the monsters battling them. The battle field was strewn with the bodies of loved-ones and disgusting creatures. The sky was black with smoke and the air was thick with the scent of blood. Lady Sylvanas retreated back, drawing her bow and pulling silver arrows out of her quiver. Her allies, the Horde, ran among her people, aiding her army of friends, slaying the Scourge and healing the hurt.

"Clea," Lady Sylvanas called out, eyes focused upon the battle. Her hunter appeared at her side, a grim look on her gentle face, and sadness in her red eyes.

"My lady?" She asked stiffly, as she shot arrows at the Scourge.

Lady Sylvanas bit back sympathy. No time for sorrow among her kind, the time of bloodlust and rage was now. The Scourge swept closer to their rangers, who stood far away from the melee, shooting arrows and bullets to wound the Scourge. She slew many minions before she spoke softly to Clea, bowing down to the hurt in her eyes, whom joined her in battle.

"What is troubling you?"

Clea's eyes filled with quick tears, but she said with a strong voice,

"My troubles can wait until we are victorious and The Lich King is dead."

Lady Sylvanas nodded; she summoned Thrall, her ally, and her former friend whom was the king of the Hordes most treasured city, Orgrimmar. He quickly bowed to her, then said,

"What is it, my Lady? I grow impatient with Arthas' toys and am eager to run my sword across his throat."

She smiled bitterly.

"He is one to stall us, but what are his plans? No…that does not matter. Thrall, I want you to gather my hunters; I have a mission prepared for them. Perhaps they can finally rid us of our impatience."

He bowed again, to show he understood, and ran off to gather them.

The high blood-curdling scream of a banshee filled the air.

Arthas can make his Banshees scream all they want, Lady Sylvanas thought, but the true pain of a banshees' scream comes from the tortured soul of one. Then she added bitterly, me.

Abominations hurled poison towards her, splattering around her in a perfect circle. She smiled and silently thanked Elizabeth of Silvermoon for her protection wards. Ghouls and ghosts shot around her in mayhem.

"The land burns with my Wrath. How long will you evade me, Sylvanas? I am eager to slit your throats in front of your allies, eager to show them their true master." Arthas mused, voice touching the ears of everyone.

"Fire the catapults! Send off the bats! Summon all the Warlocks!" Commanded Sylvanas, ignoring his taunts, her voice rising. "We must stop The Lich King!"

Voices of agreement floated towards her.

Clea, who stood behind her quietly, said,

"What do you wish the Dark Rangers to do?"

Lady Sylvanas turned towards her, sword still dripping the green and red blood of The Scourge. Her face was weary, but her eyes were fierce.

"We may have a chance to finally rid the world of Arthas. I'm choosing to send you and the other Dark Rangers into the woods, to spring an attack from behind. It is possible that his minions will be very focused on the attack from the front, and you all will be able to get to him."

Clea gave her a small smile.

"It may work." She whispered, then turned her head towards the crowd of hunters, that walked towards them. "And here my sisters come. By the looks of it, Thrall wants to privately speak with you."

Lady Sylvanas cast a glance at Thrall. His face was full of rage. Clea looked at her sisters, who majestically held their chins high, expressions hard and their bows in hand.

"Lady Sylvanas informed me that if we run through The Forest, we can spring an attacked from behind his camp, as she and Thrall led their armies to the front. She wants us to slay as many as we can, and try to reach Arthas. Understand?" Clea explained, back straight and eyes watchful.

They all nodded, saluting her with respect.

"Let us go then." She said.

They sprinted towards the woods, swords drawn; the better to slaughter the minions of the Scourge that blocked their pathway.


	2. Chapter 2

Clea and her hunters reached the cool shade of the trees. Their stiff shoulders slightly relaxed as they jogged through the elms and oaks. Clea stopped them about twenty feet into the woods, and then said, sheathing her sword,

"I believe we should split up. We may not look as suspicious if we separate among the woods then meet up together again. I trust The Lich King would station spies here, in case Lady Sylvanas sent someone along this way." She looked at each elf individually. "Pheatria," She said, looking at a short, fine-haired, blue-eyed elf, "Head straight into the deep part of the woods until the trees thin out and you're on the edge of the forest. Then go north until you see a fountain. We all shall meet there."

Pheatria nodded understandingly then swiftly left the group.

Clea turned to a tall, black-haired elf.

"Hannan, do the same as Pheatria but, instead of going through the forest until the trees thin, go North from the deep part of the forest. Again, until you see a fountain."

Hannan smiled confidently, and then left.

"Cynnisa," Clea said, looking at a skinny elf, with Black hair and violent violet eyes. "Go north from where we're standing."

Cynnisa sighed, her eyes dull with weariness. She put on a brave grimace, then leapt over a fallen log and into the darkness of the forest.

Clea stashed her bow into the quiver behind her, then set off on her own course, at a fast sprint.


	3. Chapter 3

Lady Sylvanas surveyed the land. The Burning Plain was afire and catastrophe was spread to all the corners of her vision. Thrall opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as Arthas yelled for the third time,

"You may have believed that these minions were the only ones I have in my army. Yet, as your numbers lower, mine rise. MINIONS OF THE SCOURGE! I SUMMON YOU FROM THE DEAD BODIES STREWN ACROSS THIS LAND. RISE, AND FIGHT FOR ME ONCE MORE."

A loud blast echoed, and silence fell, as the Horde lowered their weapons in shock. Ghouls rose from the corpses of allies and enemies, their eyes blank, but minds full of thoughts of death and destruction. Smoke clogged the air, choking many and blinding all.

Clea winced as she heard Arthas's words. He was right. There was no stopping him. He was wounding her loved ones for entertainment. She sprinted faster into the woods, deep in thought. She did not notice that a Death Knight stepped out from behind a tree and stood in front of her, until she crashed into him. The impact jarred her, forcing her out of her mind, but he remained still, his blue glowing eyes bore into her, wide, frightened, eyes.

"What are you running from, young Hunter?" He asked, his voice cool and calm.

Clea glared at him, insulted. She straightened herself, standing in front of him; her hand that gripped her bow itched.

"I am not a young hunter. I am more experienced than any human being." She said, nobly, head held high.

The Death Knight smiled, clearly amused.

"The Lich King is stronger than you are." He stated.

"I said experienced. Strength is nothing compared to that." She retorted, bitterly.

He pulled his sword out of its sheath, making her tense. He cast a look at her, noticing her unease. Looking down, he studied his sword as he said,

"I do not know what The Lich King wants from you, but he has made my intentions clear that he is very interested in you."

She froze.

"I was told to bring you to him, even if I have to fight to my death. But it seems to me I do not have to fight as hard as I believed. Has Lady Sylvanas lost her touch? She would never risk a plan like this."

Clea gave him a look of disbelief. His smile widened.

"Yes, we know of the plan you and Lady Sylvanas have conjured, how you would ambush the Lich Kings' campsite from behind."

"I will never let you take me to The Lich King. I would rather die than bow down to that scum."

The Death Knight ran his fingers through his shockingly blonde hair, then told her, blue eyes focused on her,

"It would not matter if you're dead or not, you are still valuable to him."

She lifted her bow, aiming at his forehead, releasing three silver arrows in a split second. He dodged them, and swung his sword at her. She ducked, but not quickly enough. It struck her cheek, and her blood splattered his face. She staggered back, dazed. She shook her head, then quickly placed her bow in her quiver. She unsheathed her sword; thrusting it towards his chest, but he danced away. He jabbed his sword at her thigh, her flesh combining with his saronite. She threw her sword at him like a javelin, then gripped her leg in pain; he easily evaded it.

"Deaths Respite!" He shouted, lifting his palm towards her direction.

She was lifted into the air, and hung there, choking. The spell swirled around her neck like a chain, crushing her throat and cutting off her air supply. She kicked and tried to grab at its swirling shape.

Panting, the Death Knight said,

"It does not take much to weaken you, _young hunter. _Perhapsyou are becoming like Lady Sylvanas?"

He put his hand down, and Clea dropped to the ground, sputtering, and coughing. Her arms shook as they supported her body.

"Death Grip." He said, flicking his wrist and pointing in her direction again.

A hand grabbed her and lifted her up. Its purple tendrils swirled around her, supporting her and making her unable to struggle. He kept his hand up and swiftly set off north, towards The Lich King's camp.

"No! No! No! I demand you let me go!" Clea screamed at him, her face red.

He ignored her, and quickened his pace.

The forest let off an eerie glow, as the sky above the trees darkened with smoke. The trees grew thicker, and the forest darker. The only sound was of a nearby stream trickling lazily past them. The Death Knight stopped, cocking his head to the side. Clea's sweaty face glanced around, listening. The small cry of elves and large shouts of orcs echoed.

"You hear that, young hunter? That is the sound of a defeat. The Horde are losing their grip, and the Lich King is not." He said.

He set off again, sprinting. The trees began to thin quickly, once again. A fountain sprung up in the middle of their pathway, but none of her hunters were to be seen. Ghouls surrounded the area now, their numbers increasing per foot. The Death Knight glowed, his face bright and smug. He entered the camp, nodding to a few of his fellow Death Knights that saluted him in respect. He crossed a section of small tents, each with a fire smoldering by it. He continued on until they reached a large platform. Clea's eyes widened as she saw him.


	4. Chapter 4

Sylvanas scowled. Of course Arthas was right. Her friends and allies were dying at the hands of his Scourge.

"My Lady," Thrall began, concern in his voice. "We have to retreat. Arthas is right. Our troops are _dying, _ at the Scourges hands, my L-" He began, voice growing lower, but more anxious.

"No!" She growled, her eyes met his, fierce and determined. "We cannot abandon our actions. My hunters are out to ambush them from behind and my friends shall remain strong at the front. We shall push harder until the Lich King is defeated."

Thrall shifted uncomfortably, but then a look of anger crossed him.

"My Lady," He said, his voice dangerous, but still low. "I do not like to issue orders without your permission, but if I must for the sake of our troops, and lost ones, so be it."

Sylvanas froze. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you saying that my actions, MY tactics, to defeat The Lich King himself, are not worthy enough for my army to carry out?" She asked, suddenly furious.

Shock reached Thralls face.

"No. I am not. But my Lady, he is too strong for us, we have to retreat, your hunters safe or not. This is not a simple matter to decide over, it is one for the balance between our victory and theirs. Arthas may have a heart still inside him, but I doubt he cares for the ones he spent half his life saving anymore. Think about how he corrupted you! Do you want us all to die in a mere battle, which was here to try to defeat him? Or do you want us to retreat, heal our wounded, and gather more, to add to our ranks? Sylvanas, this cannot continue, for revenge or not." He lectured, growling.

Lady Sylvanas' face fell, her eyes suddenly weary. She looked down at the blood stained plain, among the chaos, thinking.

Thrall was indeed right, but she could not bear to let her hunters go, not knowing what their current state was, nor give up the fight. Revenge was strong in her veins, for all the things he did to corrupt her, all the slaughtering in her home. Her eyes hardened from the task of trying not to appear weak, looking up at Thralls face.

"You are right." She muttered. "But I cannot let go the sweet lust of revenge in my veins nor my loyal hunters. If I must, I must though."

She straightened again, her dark hair swirling around her pastel features. She grimaced at him, and he returned it with a look of sympathy, then he turned towards the pandemonium.

"My Allies and my friends," He bellowed. "You have fought greatly, but we must retreat! We have a great need for peace and a great need to gather more strength. Come, we must run back and gather reinforcements."

He turned back to Lady Sylvanas, satisfied. She was staring widely in the direction of Arthas' camp, shock in her eyes. He looked in that direction to see a strange red glow emit from a high-raised platform.

The call of her Dark Rangers.

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**Author's Note: Reviews are welcome.**


	5. Chapter 5

Arthas studied the pendant. It was the young Blood Elf's who hung before him, supported by Koltira's Death Grip. Her face was grimy and sweat plastered her hair to her face. The mark of Lady Sylvanas and a bow crossed each other on the smooth silver surface. He smiled. She was one of Sylvanas' hunters. He had them all now.

"Koltira, you have done well." Arthas mused, turning to him, clenching the pendant in his fist. "You may release her."

The blonde-haired elfin Death Knight widened his glowing blue eyes.

"But sir-"He began to protest.

"Do not worry; she shall not run. Fear overcomes every sense and thought." Arthas interrupted.

Koltira nodded and bowed, putting down his palm which supported Clea. She fell onto the platform, but made no move to get up. Koltira gave another small bow then swiftly left the platform.

"Stand Elf," Commanded Arthas, his voice chilling her bone.

Her limbs moved, making her stand. She shook with fright, a rarity among Dark Rangers as she stared into his cold, blue eyes. He looked back down at her pendant. Jaina flashed through the only part of Arthas Menthil's mind. The elf stared at him, confused as a shock of remembrance flashed through him, making his eyes widen. But, it disappeared as the Lich King focused him back to the Elf.

"You know, you are not as alone as you believe you are." He said.

"W-What?" She stammered.

He looked down below the platform, then motioned for a Death Knight to bring his hostages. Clea gasped. Coming up the platform, a young, strong blonde haired human pulled three elves in a Death Grip towards them. Her Hunters. Each had an ugly green slash mark on their face, each grey in the face and dull in the eyes.

"What have you done to my sisters!?" Clea screamed at Arthas.

"I must congratulate Noth, Thassarian. This plague is very potent by the looks of each of them. We could wipe the entire Alliance with this plague." Arthas said, ignoring Clea, and turning towards Thassarian.

The Death Knight's mouth twitched down for a mere second, then he smiled and bowed, saying,

"I shall tell Noth of your compliment as soon as you dismiss me from the slaying of Sylvanas' Hunters."

Arthas indicated the action with a dip of his chin.

"Monster! Arthas, you damned monster! I shall tear apart you and your scourge when I am free!" Clea vowed, eyes hard and furious.

"Whoever said you shall get free? Let alone live?" Thassarian asked, looking grimly at her.

"Sylvanas will pay for her childish plan." Arthas rumbled.

"N-No!" She whispered.

Arthas smile slowly spread wider.

"Killing was not my intention." He said, giving her a side-ways look.

"Wh-what do you mean?" She said, trembling.

Arthas unsheathed his sword. Frostmourne glowed in his hand evilly. He took a step towards her.

"I shall show you." He answered.

He drove Frostmourne into her chest, as a piercing scream tore from her lips. Her pendant dropped from his hand, hitting the ground, emitting an eerie red glow, as she fell before his feet, blood pouring from her fresh wound and soul rising into Frostmourne.


	6. Chapter 6

Lady Sylvanas screamed, writhing in pain on the ground of the battle-field. Sweat popped onto her face, slicking her hair. Thrall shouted something at her, but she took no notice as her vision blurred away, reappearing as Clea's.

"Monster! Arthas, you damned monster! I shall tear apart you and your scourge when I am free!" Clea vowed, eyes hard and furious.

"Whoever said you shall get free? Let alone live?" Thassarian asked, looking grimly at her.

"Sylvanas will pay for her childish plan." Arthas rumbled.

Sylvanas' vision blurred momentarily, a faint voice calling her name.

Arthas' smile slowly spread wider.

Sylvanas' twitched again, the voice growing evermore louder. Her vision kept swaying in and out, bits of Clea's life fading for brief moments.

Arthas unsheathed his sword. Frostmourne glowed in his hand evilly as he took a step towards her.

"I shall show you." He answered.

He drove Frostmourne into her chest, as a piercing scream tore from her lips. Her pendant dropped from his hand, hitting the ground, emitting an eerie red glow, as she fell before his feet, blood pouring from her fresh wound and soul rising into Frostmourne.

Her vision faded again, and a sense of darkness overwhelmed her.

"Lady Sylvanas!" A voice said nearby her. "My Lady, you must wake up."

Sylvanas opened her eyes, gasping for air. She clutched the sheets of a cotton bed, sweat still slick on her forehead, long black hair everywhere.

"My Lady, are you alright?" Thrall asked, taking her hand, kneeling. "Of course not, how foolish of me, I know you, you have seen something. What is wrong?"

She sat up, pushing he hair out of her face.

"Clea!" She choked, trying to force air into her lungs, pain in her chest. "A-Arthas, it was his doing…he-…"

She fell silent, still trying to take deep breaths. She felt as if she had been Clea. The pain of Frostmourne in her chest was fresh in her mind, even though it had not been her that had been stabbed.

Thrall frowned, confused.

"Arthas? Clea? What the hell happened?" He asked.

"Arth—He—He was speaking to Clea, who was beside the very same death knight that murdered Koltira. She was…vowing to kill Arthas herself, but then the death knight asked who said she was going to get free…let alone…live?" She took another breath. "Then Arthas said I would pay for my "Childish plan". How could he have known?"

"Spies," Thrall growled. "There is a traitor among us."

She looked at him, exasperated.

"Do not worry." He said, standing. "Continue."

Sylvanas' face blanked again.

"Arthas then, s-said, 'Killing was not my intention'." She whispered. "I was as confused as Clea then. But then he spoke again. 'I shall show you.' Then…" She shuddered closing her eyes, trying to suppress the horrible image. "Blood, Hers, everywhere… Her scream…Frostmourne—" She stopped in mid-sentence, eyes widening in horror.

"No…no…NO!"

"Calm yourself. We will find her. She will be safe." Thrall said, taking her hand once more. "I promise."


End file.
